Even now, 30 years on, memories of Scotland’s tumultuous 1990 grand-slam triumph over England have the power to move those involved to tears. Iwan Tukalo is recounting the team talk delivered by Scotland’s revered coaching double-act of Ian McGeechan and Jim Telfer at their hotel before heading to Murrayfield. It was, he believes, the “defining moment” when hope was infused with conviction they could topple Will Carling’s England and seize European rugby’s biggest prize themselves.
“Normally it was a little bit like being back at school, with the teachers – the coaches – at the front and then our chairs set out in rows,” the former wing says. “This time all the seats were in a circle and on the front of each chair was a jersey but you couldn’t see the numbers, just the thistle. They said: ‘Come in, just sit anywhere.’
“So Geech gets into the circle and starts to talk to us about tactics, all the things we do when we’re in certain parts of the field. Then he stepped out and Creamy [Telfer] stepped in. He started this whole thing about not just playing for the jersey but for yourselves, your friends and families, saying: ‘If you win this game, it is life-changing for you.’
“At the end he said: ‘There is a jersey on the front of your chair; pick that jersey up and give it to the person it belongs to and make a commitment to them’.” At this point Tukalo, now 58, pauses to wipe away a tear. “Sorry, but that’s how powerful it was, it still has that emotion.” On Tukalo’s chair was the No 6 jersey belonging to the flanker John Jeffrey. “I just said: ‘JJ, there’s your jersey, I won’t let you down.’ For me, after that, nobody was going to beat us that day.”
Saturday’s latest Calcutta Cup passion play will not lack for intrigue as both countries plot a route back from opening defeats – Scotland in Dublin, England in Paris – but even were a grand slam still on the line, it is doubtful the emotional pitch would reach 1990 levels. The patriotic fervour swirling round Murrayfield was fuelled by the political backdrop, with many Scots none too impressed at being used as a testing ground for Margaret Thatcher’s hated poll tax before its imminent introduction south of the border.
If England were characterised in the buildup as the embodiment of this arrogance and brutality, the Scots, billeted in the Braid Hills hotel on the outskirts of Edinburgh, were “oblivious” to the off-field noise until the day of the match, according to Tukalo, who was sharing a room with the captain, David Sole.
“Soley is not the most talkative of individuals. The nerves were jangling and there was a deathly silence. So I said: ‘Do you mind if I put the TV on?’ It just so happened the opening credits of Grandstand came on. There was every Scotland-England sporting event that had ever happened, not just rugby but football, boxing and everything else. It only lasted a couple of minutes and then there was silence. We looked at each other and just went: ‘Fuuuuck!’ That’s when it hit home.”
England’s dominant form in the Championship made them favourites. Scotland earned narrow wins in Dublin and Cardiff but a 21-0 home victory over France bolstered confidence, as did the recall of only their second ever grand slam six years earlier, to the day, 17 March. Coincidentally, Telfer’s birthday.
“I was there when Jim Calder scored his try in ’84 against France,” says Tukalo, who is behind plans to reunite Scotland’s 1984 and 1990 squads at a unique charity dinner in May. “When it was our turn to have the opportunity, to know it was achievable, those guys were an inspiration.”
Home fires were stoked further when Scotland ran out to warm up and found the England players’ girlfriends being interviewed on the pitch. “Talk about red rag to a bull,” Tukalo says. “‘You are on our turf, you have got no effing right to be there until the day is done.”
Scotland’s slow walk out for the kick-off, led by Sole, is enshrined in rugby folklore. Tukalo believes its origins lay in their annual trial match two years previously, when Gary Callander, who led the “reds” against the more established “blues”, used it as motivation. “Gary said: ‘We are not Christians at the Colosseum being led to the slaughter. We’re going to walk out there with purpose’. It resonated.”
Finlay Calder, Jim’s twin brother and a victorious Lions captain in Australia in 1989, harboured doubts about the plan. “I wasn’t really buying into it because you can look helluva foolish,” says the former flanker. “I did it for the first Test with the Lions and we got murdered but I played along and it worked out fine, didn’t it? The whole idea was to destabilise them. It was a bit of gamesmanship. I can still remember when we walked out. It was a sense of there is a big fight on the cards.” A spine-tingling moment on a day full of them. “It must have rattled the England players,” Tukalo says. “The noise was off the scale.”
It went up several notches more when Tony Stanger, Scotland’s other wing, reached Gavin Hastings’ kick first to score the decisive try. Calder was alongside him, arms wide in celebration. The euphoria around Murrayfield reverberated far and wide, and not just in rugby circles.
“One of my work colleagues was a Dundee United supporter and was at Tannadice on the day,” says Tukalo, then a distribution engineer with British Gas. “He said people suddenly started jumping up and down and it was like a Mexican wave making its way to the centre of the stand. When it reached the PA announcer, he said: ‘Scotland have defeated England at Murrayfield.’ The whole place erupted.”
Strangely, perhaps, Calder recalls no great celebrations among the players. “It was more relief. We were professional in all but pay and we made huge sacrifices, to our families, to our employers. Some of us went down to Goldenacre [home of Heriot’s rugby club] where there was a live broadcast going on. Others may have gone out but I was back at work on Monday morning.”
Tickets for the grand-slam reunion event are available at heartsandballs.org.uk